Don't Kill Your Friends
by The MasterHama
Summary: Craig has lost his mind, and he's taking every single one of you into a very fun game only because he refuses to go alone... (Sensitive topics inside)
1. Chapter 1

**Don't Kill Your Friends**

The night Craig decided that enough was enough; he decided that it was enough for everyone else as well.

Unfortunately, that was also the night that Craig lost his mind.

He used to be alright, but after a while it became that no one was willing to admit he wasn'tokay anymore when he got a little bit older. His parents only wanted him to stay the same as he used to be and to feel happy, but no matter what any _doctor_ or _psychiatrist_ told his parents, they would just usher Craig along with reassuring words that _he was loved and he'd be okay in the end._ _It was just a phase; he'd get out of it soon._

In his room, at 2 A.M. he screams into his pillow because of a cocktail of emotions eating away at him and the voices shouting out to him from other parts of reality.

Craig never slept. He was afraid of the evil things that haunted him in his dreams; he was afraid of the thoughts that bombarded him whenever he was alone. Just him, and his mind.

There were terrifying things that he thought of, and he was too selfish to stop it.

He has been lying to his mom for a very, _very _long time. He hadn't been taking his pills after those few weeks of trying them, and instead threw them behind his friend Tweek's rose bushes while he waited for him every morning.

He didn't want to feel happy, or normal because of a prescription messing around with his already fucked up brain-chemistry, he wanted to feel better because he was _truly_ better, not for any other reason.

No one at school paid attention to him, they were all afraid. His parents didn't want to know or notice what was wrong with him. Craig suffered in total silence and had been for a long time. He had felt lost somewhere in between wanting to spill his guts or to just give in.

Everyone hated him. He hated everybody. He hated himself twice what he hated them and _there was _NOTHING anyone did for him and-

Craig was just lost.

Craig was just unfortunate.

Craig didn't deserve to lose his mind that night.

But he was certain that everyone deserved to be taken down with him.

3 A.M. he washes his face with cold water, and stares into his reflection. He was thinking of a plan. He wanted the end to be _fun._

He wanted there to be _fear._

_Betrayal._

Everything was so FUCKED UP.

Craig was going to make this going out party memorable. He would have the story all over the news for the next month! He'd be the talk of the town. Everyone would know his name and what happened to him and maybe _everyone would understand him for once._ They would all feel sorry and ask themselves what they could have done.

And he would be dead.

He would be so blissfully _dead_.

And so would his friends.

Craig dries his face with a towel. He was going to make it petrifying for them. It would be so much fun! He had always wanted to play the game that was on his mind. It was more tempting than ever… He didn't want to be _alone_ in the end…

His reflection gives him an encouraging smile. It would be just _so much fun_ what he had in mind.

He sets the towel aside, and hits the bathroom lights.

He knew where his dad hid the pistol.

**That hiatus was… **_**refreshing.**_

**Now that I'm back from the depths, I'll be starting on something a bit out of my comfort zone.**

**This'll be a short story, about 3 chapters or so. If there's anyone who's willing to Beta, **_**please shoot me a PM!**_

**Thank you for reading (and stick around too, I've got plans for this one.)**

**-The MasterHama**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter #2- Face to the Floor**

He was having trouble processing reality, again.

Was this real, or was he just dozing? He was far from waking up, but still conscious… He could hear the voices all too clearly in his head, but was too weak to open his eyes and see if anybody was _really_ there talking to him.

There were frightening things he heard at this time every morning; terrible things that could have easily been avoided if he would take his medication. He could never bring himself away from them; it was like they had a death grip on his mind until the alarm on his phone went off and heaved him back into the actuality he was always so detached from. For just a moment he would be able to see his black curtains clearly, and feel the cold air on his toes the blanket didn't cover. He wouldn't hear anything aside from the awful beeping his phone made at 6:01 in the morning.

Shut up.

He hurls his phone against the wall.

_Be quiet._

Craig stares out into the darkness of dreaded early morning. He feels himself start to slip back into that daze... And out of nowhere, he remembers why he had to get out of bed as soon as possible. He remembers what he had planned for the day. There was no time to sleep in!

It was going to be so much fucking_ fun._

Craig tore the blankets away from him, and manages to find clothes that didn't smell so bad. But what would it matter, anyway? Nothing matters anymore; the end is finally in sight.

He's so excited that his fingers are trembling as he buttons his jeans. He's vibrating in his skin, he couldn't get out of the house _soon enough!_

His stomach says he's hungry, his head says he needs to leave.

Everything was ready, everything was perfect. All he needed to do was tell his cronies and they would come.

They had to come. _Or else, he would make them..._

She says ever so softly "Craig, you're up early."

"Good morning!" He turns his head curtly towards her voice, "I made you coffee."

She nods, looking over his shoulder into the kitchen as if she were expecting someone else to be there, "Were you talking to someone?"

He could see the drowsiness still in her eyes and lingering in her limbs and crumpled clothes. He could _smell_ it on her, in her breath and on her skin. He could hear it in her voice when she spoke to him.

"Go back to bed, mom. I have school." He shoves her out of the way, abruptly offended, and went for the door.

"You're not hungry?"

He screams without warning for no real reason, "Why does it matter if I eat if I'm just going to get hungry again?!" and opens the door, "Why should it matter to _you?!"_ He was angry at her for just being there. His only desire was to be _alone_ couldn't she see?

He can hear another pair of footsteps treading upstairs, he hopes he was the one who woke up.

"Just go then!" Her arms are crossed, and she looks away from him, trying her very best to hide her tired eyes, "Call me later if you want me to pick you up. You took your medication, right?"

His nails dig into his palms, foul things he wanted to say. But instead he said _"Goodbye."_ He leaves before the sinister words he wanted to spit could come out of his mouth. He wanted to shout, and to hurt her. But he loved her so much and she him all the same.

He was always in some sort of game with her. Sometimes he would hate her, and then suddenly he would just want to be held by her. He would go from wanting her dead, to wanting her to be his mother. Why was it so hard for him to decide on what the _fuck_ he _felt?_ Why can't she just _leave him alone_? WHY CAN'T SHE SEE WHAT SHE _DOES_ TO HIM?

Maybe it would be better if he felt nothing at all.

_You know why you can't do that._

He looks down at his black Vans as they stomp down the sidewalk on all of the cracks, being careful not to miss any of them.

_You know what they say is wrong with you._

* * *

He checks behind Tweek's rose bushes, thankful to see the little mound of white pills still intact and untouched. He was always worried about it during the winter, when there were no leaves to hide them.

He empties the entire bottle. _You won't need those, anymore._

His phone vibrates in his back pocket.

**Sender: Tweeeeek**

**Receiver: Craig T.**

_Are yiu waitign outside?_

**Sent: 7:02 A.M.**

Craig walks around the side of Tweek's comfortably small house to where he knew his friend's window was. Inside, he could see Tweek struggling to fit a binder into his backpack amongst the disarray of inside-out cloths and papers laying around him. Unlike Tweek, Craig himself kept his room unnaturally neat; he hated to know that people lived in any other way than his.

He knew watching his friend through his window was incongruous, but it made him feel safer knowing he had been doing it for months without being noticed and could probably do it for longer. It was a barrier keeping him safe from others in the world, for a little while nothing could touch him.

After a very banal few minutes of watching him, Craig impatiently tapped his bruised knuckles on the glass.

Tweek went from docile, to mortified at the noise. Craig heard a tiny shriek, and watched him fall backward, shaking the dozens of coffee mugs stacked up on his dresser. Craig would have laughed if he wasn't thinking of his plans for Tweek, the night to come.

"Craig," Tweek regained whatever composure he could find, and lifted the window up, "You could have c-called me!"

Craig shrugs, and takes Tweek's backpack for him when it's handed, "Good morning…"

Tweek slides out of the window sill with a thermos, and closes it from the outside. "Why are you h-here so early?" He asks as they walk out of the driveway.

Craig doesn't hesitate, "I'm inviting Clyde, and Token over tonight. I wanted to know if you could come, too."

Tweek nearly chokes on his coffee. "You're _what?"_

Calmly, and rehearsed, "I know I've been resenting you guys for a long time. I just thought we could hang out tonight, if that's okay." He didn't take his eyes off the sidewalk ahead of them.

"O-of course it's okay!" Tweek gently smiles at him, "Of course I'll go."

Inside his ribcage, Craig's heart flutters just a little bit. "Thank you." _For your cooperation._

* * *

10:30, Craig is waiting anxiously outside of the Gym Locker Room, watching each face carefully as they pass by.

He and Clyde didn't talk much, anymore. Not for any _unfortunate_ reason. Like many friendships, it had ended because they simply stopped talking, and no other reason. Clyde never fought to talk to him (or put up with him) and Craig didn't care. He very intentionally let Clyde slip away.

The gym hallway, like always, has a mixed smell of stale clothes, sweat, and Febreeze. He was lucky enough to be excused from gym entirely, instead spending the period in the principal's office every day, to only listen to his ipod. He had no idea why, though.

There was no doubt in his mind Clyde would refuse his invitation. And even if he did…

"Clyde!" His shouts.

The exact moment he caught his eye, he knew he had made a terrible decision.

He watches him mouth his name. Clyde began walking slowly toward him, winding his way through the passing kids.

Craig had made a horrible mistake. _Shit_…

He wasn't ready to face him, not after so long. It was wrong to have thought of inviting Clyde; how could he have gone along with this idea?

Craig can feel his heart's frantic beating, watching Clyde come closer every waking moment. It was like the anticipation of the prey who had been out run by the predator, where the prey had nowhere left to hide.

"Hi, _Craig_." He starts. Craig could see the disbelief in his narrowed eyes.

He takes a quick breath, "Hello, Clyde." His eyes fall to stare at his shoes.

"How are you?"

_That piece of shit._ Craig scoffs. "How do you _think_ I am?" He shoves his hands into his pockets.

Clyde allows his eyes to fall as well. "Right. Sorry."

"_Right."_ Craig breathes in deeply through his nose, "Anyway. I'm inviting some people over tonight. I was just swinging by to see if you had any plans."

Clyde's eyes narrowed even more. "What? That's it?"

"_Yes, _that's all." Clyde is still looking at him with disbelief_. Mayday, mayday…_

"You know what? It's alright. I'll just go." Craig quickly spins around and starts walking down the hallway. He's breathing hard, trying to calm himself down. _Shit._

He fucked up. Dammit. He was going to have to knock Clyde out and drag him to his house. _Fuck._ He shouldn't have been so mean. He's so mean. _Why is he so mean._ Shit.

"Craig, wait!" He stops at Clyde's voice, hoping for something, hoping for anything.

In a soft, sad voice he asks him, "What time should I be there for?"

* * *

Unlike Clyde, Craig broke off his friendship with Token for a strong reason.

In short, Token was crazy. He didn't understand what was wrong with Craig. He loathed Craig; he tried to tear him apart every day that they were together.

Token saw Craig as pathetic for letting things get to him- his mental illness in Token's eyes was a cry for attention. He tore Craig to shreds with his words up until Craig lashed out himself, and that was the end of it. They hadn't spoken a word to each other since.

Craig needs him in his house tonight; Token was the reason for all of this. He was betrayed by Token, and his revenge would be sweet.

2:15, Craig's last day of school has been dismissed, and he is the predator now. He has one of the two pistols tucked inside the waist of his jeans, waiting for his prey to begin its walk home. He's hiding behind the corner, watching Token pull on his jacket at his locker. Different from his encounter with Clyde, he isn't nervous at all; the image of Token begging for mercy made him feel _content_ of all things.

Craig follows him from far behind when he leaves the building, and continues down the road. Only once does Token look back, but luckily, Craig was able to dive behind a car parked on the street just in time.

Is this what it was like to be a killer? This rush of adrenaline, this _wanting_ to kill- Craig has been wondering.

He watches Token walk up to his garage, type in the code, and disappear inside. But he not stuck; he had a plan.

Time drags on to 5 o'clock, and Craig is getting antsy hiding under the parked car in the driveway. He'd been thinking about the flaw in his plan- perhaps Token was not home alone? Would Craig have to kill someone innocent, just so he could go out in style? He decides that yes, he would kill anyone who stood in his way.

He crawls out from under the car, and runs over to the keypad. _0-7-2-0_, Token's birthday. The garage door shuttered, then lifted itself open.

Craig had no idea where in the house Token could be, which was another factor he chose to ignore.

He quietly opens the door into the house, and shuts it.

Inside it's dim, and smells stale as if the house wasn't being lived in. He holds his breath and listens for any noise, but all he can hear is the gentle humming of the heater.

Craig makes his way down the hall, and into their living room. Craig finds the television left running, and a half empty glass of soda on the end table. He had gotten up with intent of returning shortly, Craig assumes.

He walks so, _so_ quietly further into the home, to the nearest bathroom which finds vacant as well.

Craig takes a breath through his nose, and pulls the pistol out from the waistband of his pants. The garage didn't exactly open as silent as he wishes it did…

Craig gives up trying to figure Token out, and starts searching every room he comes across, all until he hears the sound of heavy breathing. Not breathing from behind a door, and not some place in his head. Craig's blood runs cold, it was coming from directly behind him, Token was the victor in their game of Hide and Seek.

"What are you doing?"

He notes that he doesn't sound particularly angry, more confused than anything. Craig in the other's eyes was nothing to fear, just little, scrawny, ignorant, _pitiful_ Craig.

"I'm looking for you." He responds softly, still too startled to turn around.

"But why did you break in? Why are you _here?"_ Token steps into the room, and flips on the light switch.

"I knew you'd say no. So I had to make you." Craig straightens his back, and shyly finds Token's eyes.

Token stops moving when Craig lifts the gun to the other's head. "Oh my _god,_ Craig!" He stumbles back, and knocks the lamp off of the table in the corner. _"Oh my god!"_

"It's all your fault. _All of it!_ And you don't even care. You _never_ cared." Craig walks closer, and cocks the pistol. "You're going to pay for all of it, Token."

"Holy shit!" Token backs up far enough to hit the wall, "Oh god, please don't shoot."

Craig swallows his smile, "I'm not going to shoot you unless you come with me."

"Anything, anything." Token raises his trembling hands above his head, "I'll do anything, just don't _shoot_ me!"

He flips the safety on, places the gun back in the waistband of his jeans again, and lets Token lead him out of the home.

Finally, he had all of them coming that night, his biggest concern was lifted. They'd all be dead. _Killed, murdered, beaten and betrayed! He'd let them all have a taste of what he'd gone through- what they ignored for years._

Craig I still wondering what it must feel like to be a killer.

It surely should not be peace of mind.

* * *

**Wooooooops. That took a while.**

**-MH**


End file.
